Death Tales: The Grim Reaper's Son
by EvanescentDream93
Summary: I guess there have been many assumptions about how I came into being, from Honorable Father being asexual to a female version of him wearing a pink bow. All rumors, though some have managed to scrape the surface of the truth. This is it…
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I do not own Soul Eater. If I did, would I be here? Probably.**

**Prologue**

_Enemy  
Familiar friend  
My beginning and my end  
Knowing truth  
Whispering lies  
And it hurts again..._

_**~Fight Inside by Red**_

He glided - literally the epitome of lingering ghost and mournful souls - across the blood soaked ground. He felt the dying and already dead souls, either reaching towards him or trying effortlessly to get away. A floating orb hovered above him, collecting willing and reluctant souls alike as he continued his survey of the bleak land.

"_So much unneeded blood shed_", he thought grimly - no pun intended - feeling a rising anger towards his former pupil and comrade.

Raising a hand only of dry bones and black wispy shadows, he summoned the orb back to his hand. It instantly elongated into a scythe. It had no soul of its own, only the souls that had been collected within it. It was a simple thing yet menacing all the same.

He was prepared to leave, seeing enough of the carnage created by one of his biggest mistakes when he heard it. No. Heard was the wrong word. He felt it; a soul tugging on his weary bones with faint but undying persistence.

It was because of this persistence that he found himself a few minutes later cradling the body of a small infant. _Alive, _he thought, _but only faintly._

He decided to give the child a few minutes of his time. It was apparent that it could not survive much longer, its body weak and fragile. The least he could do, he figured, was what he hoped was a comforting presence to this child as the light within slowly extinguished. The lost of such a young soul always seemed to sadden him.

The infant was cold, and its body didn't move at all. So it wasn't because of some movement that the infant had made that made the brow of his bone mask rise; it was the soft humming sound that came from his scythe at the close proximity to the baby. It reminded him greatly of a mother singing a lullaby to her child.

And then suddenly, the child's heart beat slowed, then stopped…

…but his soul hummed strongly along with Death's scythe as three incomplete white lines appeared in the child's hair.

* * *

Short, I know. More to come.

This is a branch story for the history of Death the Kidd, if you can't tell. This story goes with my other Soul Eater story "No Matter What" though this story can be read on its own without reading the other one.

Well, it's not much but I would appreciate your thoughts so please review. Thank you.


	2. It's a Deathly Baby Boy

**Disclaimer: I do not own Soul Eater. Maybe you guys should give it to me for my birthday!**

**It's a Deathly Baby Boy**

_Tell me I'm frozen but what can I do?  
Can't tell the reasons I did it for you  
When lies turn into truth I sacrificed for you  
You say that I'm frozen but what can I do?_

_**~Frozen by Within Temptation**_

* * *

"It's a baby."

"I know."

"It's a baby boy."

"_Yes..."_

"It's a freakin' real live baby boy!"

"Actually, technically he's dead."

The grim reaper watched from behind his mask as the short young woman before him practically threw herself in a frenzy over the child he carried in his arms – though maybe appearing in her room at the ungodly hour of three in the morning and hovering silently above her like, well, Death, till she awoke was a partial contributor. Her peacock like gray hair seemed to stand more so on end then it usually did. Her dark eyes looked at him confused, specks of dark amber becoming more prominent with her increasing hysterics and her pale skin. He found her unneeded worrying oddly amusing especially in the teddy bear footie pajama's she wore – a gift from him which was about a few hundred years too early for her time.

"Oh! That's rich! So you're carrying around a _dead _baby and you brought it to me room! That makes me feel _so_ much more comforted," she said, her voice oozing with sarcasm.

He glided around her frustrated form, placing the child on a tall seat with no backing or barriers between the seat and floor. "It wasn't like I had any choice, Mena" Death replied. "He ate my scythe."

All complaints died in her throat as the woman's, Mena, mouth gaped open like a fish out of water. "He- he-he did _what_?"

Death held back a sigh, wondering if she needed her ears checked. "He. Ate. My. Scythe. Ate it; absorbed it; became one with. Whatever you want to call it, he" he pointing to the baby who was teetering dangerously on the edge of chair, "did it to my scythe."

Mena shook her head as she pulled the child into her arms, cradling it gently in her arms. "That-that doesn't make sense. I mean, how? You're freaking Death himself! The Grim Reaper! Anubis! Hades! Yan Luo!"

"I know," he replied tiredly. "And many more."

"You're like a freakin' old man! You're practically a moving fossil."

"Now you're just insulting me."

"Well-" Mena held her tongue as the baby squirmed in her arms impatiently.

Death glided back over to her instantly. "What's wrong with it?"

"It's hungry," Mena replied. "I think. I don't know! I mean, for all I know it's probably trying to spit up your damn precious scythe," she said shoving the baby back into the grim reaper's arms.

"Not this again," the male sighed, deciding to sit in the chair. It was best to get comfortable when Mena got into her ranting.

"I mean, am I or am I not a weapon?"

Sigh. "Yes."

"And am I not one of the best weapons you have on your side?"

"Yes, Mena."

She smiled turning towards him. Death wasn't afraid of much if anything at all…except for Mena smiling. She quick as lightening hit the masked male on the head, temple throbbing. "Then why in hell did you not bring me instead of some old scythe without even a pulse?!"

He straightened. He was Death. Why should he be chastised by such fragile a being? Her life compared to his existence was like a flickering candle. But he frowned from behind his mask, holding back any cold remark he could have possibly have given her. As he looked at Mena, hands on her hips, waiting for an explanation he lost all his words because the dark swirling tendrils seemed to surround her figure, grasping, coiling around her…and she didn't even know and he couldn't even tell her that she was dying not now but soon.

He looked down at the child in his hands. Eyes closed but surrounded with an air that gave off the impression that the infant was well aware of what was going on around it. The baby too had dark tendrils surrounding it but none of the shadowy wisps ever touched the boy, merely surrounded it, expanding and contracting in time to his no longer beating heart. The child was an anomaly itself in the fabric and logics of life and death.

Sighing, frustration completely gone from, Mena looked down at the child. "So whatcha gonna name him?"

His mask raised a bony brow. "Naming him means becoming attached."

Mena rolled her eyes. "Well you can't exactly get rid of kid. I doubt any orphanage would want him looking like Death himself. Hey!" she said snapping her fingers as if coming with some great epiphany like the meaning to life itself – which Death had to admit wasn't really all that surprising once one really thought about it. "That's it! Death the _Kid!"_

"That is the most pathetic excuse for a name that I've ever heard," Death pointed out. "Besides, he's not even my son. Why should he be associated with me? I have no time for children so you'll look after him."

"Like hell I am!" the woman protested but the child was already in her arms and Death was already gone. Mena growled before sniffing the babe. "You sexist pig!" she shouted into the air before frowning. "Just like a man to leave the diaper changing to a woman." She sighed deciding she would make him pay later. The diaper needed changing now. Ugh…

* * *

So here's another chapter. Shinigami-sama will be called Death for the time being since I believe that's what he was called when he was younger. Mena is my own character. This chapter takes place before Shibusen is ever built around the time before Shinigami locks away Asura so keep that in mind. Yes, I know that's like a really long time ago. Don't worry. I'm making this work.

Anyway, nothing more to say so...**_PLEASE REVIEW!!!_**


	3. Nursery Rhymes

**Disclaimer: Guess what! Guess what! Guess what! I don't own Soul Eater! :P**

**Nursery Rhymes**

_What do you want me to be?  
Do you want me in your life?  
I feel so incomplete  
You left me to fall behind  
Too out of touch, out of touch to touch you_

_**~Disconnected by Trapt**_

* * *

The first thing he noticed when he entered his domain was the smell of paint, then the smell of pine cones and cherries: Mena.

"Do I even dare to look?" he murmured to himself, shaking his head. Taking a deep breath he pushed aside the large double doors to his private sanctuary or office.

He almost toppled over with what he saw.

The guillotine like entrance that led from the doors to the main area of the office was still the same – though he wasn't sure if it was because the troublesome woman didn't get to them or not. But the walls, which had been previously a pure white outlined with black sun blocking curtains, were now blue…baby blue…with fluffy white moving clouds. Death was sure this was how hell frozen over would look like.

"Ah you're back sugar-dear-sweetie-pie!"

The only clue that the woman coming towards him, dressed in a blue dress– only a shade darker than what was on the walls –, was actually Mena, who was accustomed to wearing men's trousers, were her dark eyes like burning coals fading and her windswept gray hair that she seemed to have failed – as usual – to tame.

He mentally sagged. This was his payback; for not bringing her along his past few outings; for dropping a kid in her lap that practically defied all the laws of life and death; and just to spite him. "_And I wondered why she's still unmarried," _he thought sarcastically.

"Do you like what I've done?" Mena asked, her large grin never fading. "I've read somewhere that if a parent is happy so will be the child. I received the paint straight from a vendor from Camelot. Said Merlin uses the same stuff."

_"Doesn't that apply for infants _still in_ the womb?" _he wondered.

Death gathered himself. He had hundreds, no thousands, of years of experience on her mere little thirty. He knew that if he acted like her defiling his room was nothing then there would be nothing to fuel her fire and she would give up this meaningless rebellion…he hoped.

"Where is the child?" he asked offhandedly.

"Oh! Death Jr.?" Mena chirped in a falsely sugar coated voice that would give any person a toothache. "He's in his crib taking a nap, the dear little darling! He even makes the same faces in his dreams as you do!"

"And you would know how I'd sleep, how?" Death questioned though they both knew good and well that sleep was not a necessity at all.

Mena winked mischievously before turning to the platform in the middle of the room. Standing on top of it was a tall mirror – a recent gift from a renowned mirror crafting family. In front of the mirror was small stand with a tray on top covered with a silver tea kettle and a plate of...

"Animal crackers?" the grim reaper questioned.

"I know. Your favorite," Mena grinned widely.

Death sniffed crossing his arms. "Those ridiculous things? Hardly. I'd rather go against the most powerful of the witches then eat those absurdly sweet-" but before he could continue, with wicked delight, Mena had already shoved the crackers into his face, er, mask. Either way, one animal cracker – a hippo to be precise – managed to sneak its way into his mouth.

"There," Mena grinned, pleased with herself. "That's good isn't it?" she patted the cheek of his mask before practically skipping out of the room.

He wasn't exactly sure how, but he felt like he just lost. He sighed, feeling like his age was finally catching up to him as he popped another animal cracker into his mouth.

_**~DEATH TALES~**_

He really hated spending more time then necessary in the presence of his…colleagues. Mena knew this all too well as she stared at the two figures that were sitting in the seats of Death's office.

One seat held a tall woman. Her face – which looked young and old at the same time - was perfectly round, ivy green eyes standing out against sun-kissed skin. Wavy chestnut hair with flowers and vines interwoven into it just barely grazed the floor. Her outfit consisted of a modest but flowing violet skirt with a billowy white blouse and she wore no shoes.

The other seat's occupant was a balding old man with a snow white beard. He wore an outfit that consisted of many different elements from many different generations. It was so hard to properly describe his outfit and at first glace it would appear completely disarrayed but each item of clothing seemed to melt into the ones next to it, like a steady flow of time.

Mother Nature and Father Time: Death's colleagues.

"_Well," _Mena thought, _"It could be worst_. _They could have sent that freezing, cold ass bastard, Jack Frost." _She shivered just at the thought. Even in the hottest desert it had taken weeks for the icicles that had formed in her hair after Frost's last visit to melt.

"Lovely decoration, dear," Mother Nature commented on the still cloud cover walls Mena had painted weeks ago in her chiming bell like voice. She smiled as she got up and patted Mena's cheek. "The clouds remind me of a five years-old's drawing that she begged her mother to put up even though it shows no worth of talent at all."

Mena bowed politely, grinding her teeth together as she muttered, "Thank you Mother," but she thought, "_Damn hippie bitch!"_

Father Time stayed out of the two's conversation. With time came wisdom and his wisdom was telling to stay out of this cat-fight.

"You're very welcome, my child. At least the bit of color is better compared to the overall drab of this place. Now, can you please explain to us why dear, but utterly grim Death has called us? He's always seemed none too hesitant to show his dislike towards me, his sister, though I've never wished him ill."

"_Maybe he just hates the pompousness that just oozes off of you," _Mena thought, seriously considering saying that allowed despite the fact that this woman was an immortal.

It was at that moment he decided to enter. Carrying, the silent, but consciously aware baby in his arms, Death looked oddly out of place to the two deities before him but Mena found it strangely endearing.

"Well, well, well. Have you overstepped your boundaries, Death?" Nature said covering her nose with her dainty hand. "I smell the rotting corpse all the way from here and yet, it still has its soul. Have you not reaped it, brother?"

Mena bit her tongue, hard. The child didn't even faintly smell like dirt!

Death didn't reply. Instead, he turned to Mena. "You may leave now," he stated coolly.

Mena gasped she had always been allowed to listen in to his meetings whether confined to her weapon form or not. She wondered if this was because of Asura. Everything lately always seemed to link back to Asura nowadays and Death had seemed to make it priority to keep things from not only her but also the other eight powerful warriors. Being shut out stung more then even she expected.

"What about Death the Kidd?" she asked, ignoring the poorly hidden chuckle from Nature. She still did not move from where she stood.

"The _child_ stays. We are, after all deciding his fate. If he seems like a danger-"

"A danger? This child?" the weapon spat in disbelief.

"Mena," Death said warningly.

She stared him down before angrily rushing out of the room, the clouds on the wall turning a stormy gray, and Death not meeting her eyes.

* * *

So started out a fun chapter, ended seriously. For some reason when I type Mena I imagine her with a southern accent. -shrug- Have no idea why. Weird.

Mother Nature is Death's sister. Kind of loosely going on Greek myths since they're some of my favorites so Death = Hades and Mother Nature = Demeter though this is all loosely based. Have no idea why I picked Mother Nature and Father Time other then the fact that almost all cultures and myths (or at least the ones that I've studied which is only about 3 or 4) seem to have a diety for Earth and Time. so yeah.

So thanks for the reviews, story adds, and alerts. Much appreciated. Have no idea when the next update will be up with school and stuff.

Anyway, nothing more to say so...**_PLEASE REVIEW!_**


	4. Lull A Bye

**Disclaimer: I do not own Soul Eater or Death the Kid. I do own your attention if you're reading this. ;)**

**Lull-a-bye**

_Children waiting for the day they feel good  
Happy birthday, happy birthday  
And they feel the way that every child should  
Sit and listen, sit and listen_

_**Mad World by Adam Lambert**_

* * *

"Well, brother dear," Mother Nature sighed as she gracefully ascended from her chair. "We'll leave the matter of the child up to you…and your little garden tool."

Death nodded but by that time Nature was already gone. _"Good riddance, wench"_ he thought.

"You really have grown up," Father Time commented rolling his shoulders back to get the kinks out.

Eyeing his colleague, the grim reaper responded with, "What are you talking about?"

Time laughed knowingly before taking out a pair of pink tinted sunglasses from his back pocket. "Isn't it obvious?"

"Would I be asking you questions if it was?"

"Wait. What time are we in?"

Death sighed. "The Present."

"My Present or your Present?"

Death paused for a second. "Isn't there only one Present?"

Father Time snapped his fingers, grinning. "Then live it, Death! I assure you there's no better time!" he exclaimed, and then he too was gone.

He rubbed the upper corners of his mask with one of his hands. His colleagues were always grating to his nerves. Death looked down at the infant in his arms. The child was awake, dark eyes staring comprehendingly up at the grim reaper. For some reason, Death found the stare unnerving and quickly exited the cloud covered room. He didn't have to look too far to find Mena.

His domain floated high above the sky – surprising to some who believed it was…further south and hotter – and crossed oceans and dimensions alike. Mena always loved to watch the world below her from one of the balconies, he knew, and that's where he found her, on the balcony to her room.

"What? Can't even knock any more?" she coldly greeted as he walked in before taking the child from him. He saw her instantly relax in the presence of the child. After a moment of gently rocking the infant to sleep, she looked at him with her dark, gold flecked eyes. "So, what's the verdict on Kidd-kun?"

"He'll stay, for now."

And he was barely able to catch her and the child as she swayed on her feet, but he managed.

He had expected her to laugh victoriously; he had expected her to jump up in the air and do some sort of victory dance. Instead, Mena once again never ceased to surprise him, which was the only thing that he could predict about her actions.

She cried. Soft silent tears as one arm cradled the child close to her, using her other hand to grasp the wispy material of his cloak. "Thank you," she whispered as the tears glistened down her cheeks, forming splotches on his clothes. He didn't mind

He simply patted her on the head but that was more than enough to comfort her.

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"You're going to fall off like that," he pointed drily. For a second, he thought that the boy – who was placed in a baby carriage – had nodded in agreement. Death decided to pass it off as gas.

Lena looked over her shoulder and stuck her tongue out at him. "Worry-wart!" but she did lean back just slightly behind the balcony railing to ease his nerves.

"It's really beautiful," she sighed looking down at the rolling green pastures below Death's floating fortress.

Death glanced over the railing as well, a bony brow rising in confusion. "It's just a cluster of botanical living organisms that are used for livestock grazing."

Mena rolled her eyes, turning so that her back was leaning against the railing and that she was facing him. "Thank you, Mr. Dictionary. But I'm talking about the feeling you get looking at, you know that, '_one with nature' _vibe you get with your soul."

"Women," Death scoffed shaking his head. Mena slammed her hand down on his head.

"Insensitive death god!" she stuck her tongue out before turning to the child. "I hope when you grow up to be a nice handsome young man that you don't turn into a dummy with a mask and social problems like daddy here."

The air around Death grew tense but Mena being Mena, she didn't pay him any mind. She merely waved her hand, as if waving the tense air between them away. Death merely sighed as Mena played with the baby. She wondered if Death noticed that he didn't even try to deny the "daddy" comment this time. It made her smile as she played with Kidd's little feet.

She suddenly stopped, looking up at Death who was looking down at her. "I want you to look after him," she said with such a serious but genuine face that he didn't even dare to interrupt her. "We both know what's gonna happen soon, and don't you dare go into that cryptic death crap again. I know I'm gonna die soon."

It would be an understatement to say that Death was surprised that she realized this. Thankfully for him, he knew how to not show it but apparently that wasn't enough.

Mena quirked an amused brow. "What? All these years with you and you didn't think I wouldn't know when someone was dying?"

Death shook his head. "I guess I'm used to people begging for their lives, pleading for more time. It's few and far between when you get someone so… willing."

She closed her eyes. "I'd say for the most part that I've lived a fulfilled life. I mean it wasn't a fairy tale." She snorted. "Far from it. I know that the prejudices my grandfather faced were far harsher then that of what I have to deal with today but…" she picked the now dozing child up into her arms. "No child should have to be neglected and ignored, surrounded by loneliness. The only thing I regret is that I won't be able to see a place or a time where weapons aren't treated as monstrosities created by a witch but as protectors, partners, and comrades to other humans, keeping the balance of the world. A world where he can have friends," she said holding the child closer, "no matter what; whether he's a weapon, meister, or whatever."

"You're right," Death nodded. "You probably won't see that, even if you were to live the average human lifespan."

Mena nodded before smiling hopefully. "But you didn't deny the possibility of something like that happening."

"Well I am not Father Time. I can't see all of the future. Only those dealing with death."

"That's kind of depressing," Mena pointed out, smile never fading. "But you still haven't denied anything."

"I haven't acknowledged anything either."

"Oh! Just shut up and promise you'll look after Kidd when I'm gone!"

"Shouldn't your request be to promise and then shut up? And what if I don't promise?"

"Smartass! I should freaking beat-"

"I promise."

Mena let out a breath she didn't know she was holding, calming down instantly. She sat down against the doors to the balcony, child still cradled in her arm before she dozed off in the warm breeze, Death engraving her peaceful features into his memory as the dark shadows around her began to thicken.

And he realized something, with a jolting prick to his soul. When the ones who knew they were about to die didn't beg for their life – the ones who just let it go willingly - there was always someone else pleading for them to live.

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She tugged on the hood of her traveling cloak before turning to Death. "Ok! I'm off! Anything you need?"

Death stared at her silently before he shook his head after felt like a long time. "No."

Mena ignored his pause and went down a mental checklist. "Ok, so remember to check up on Kidd around noon for his lunch. He likes his bottle to be neither cold nor hot. Just perfectly in the middle He's picky like that, I suppose. Now you remember how to change his diaper right?" she asked swinging the travel pack on her back.

Death nodded slowly again. "Yes."

"Good," Mena smiled walking up to him and patting his masked cheek, the heat he felt through his mask lingering even after she had pulled her hand away. "Well if there are any problems you know how to contact me," she said pulling a small mirror from her pocket. "But I'm sure you'll do fine."

"How?"

Mena stumbled, confused. "Excuse me?"

"How can you be sure that I'll be able to handle this? That I'll be able to take care of a child? I'm Death after all."

She laughed and he made sure to remember how her eyes crinkled as she did so. "Well it's not rocket science, hun. You just have to be aware. Make sure he doesn't hurt himself but there's no need to hover over him. He needs to learn from his mistakes but he also needs to know that you're there to support him. Just," she said with a distant look, "just make sure you love him. Ok?"

Death nodded, knowing he couldn't stall any longer. He sighed, raising a hand as he summoned the energy around him. The room got colder and slightly darkened but neither of them showed any worry. The mirror appeared before them, reflecting an alley way leading out into a busy street market.

Mena was just about to step through when Death suddenly grabbed her arm. "Mena…"

"Yes?" she questioned, confused.

He paused before saying, "Your…your presence will be missed while you are gone."

Mena chuckled as she shook her head. "Geez, I'm only going to buy some few things from the market," she said pulling away from his grip. "Seriously, you're acting as if you don't know what you'd do without me," and then she stepped through the mirror and the reflection quickly disappeared. Death stood in the cloud painted room, staring at the spot where she had just been.

"It's because I don't…"

* * *

So here's another update. Probably be the last for a while though I'm hopping to get out one final chapter before school starts. For some reason I really love Father Time even though he had a short time in the story.

Oh, just in case you were wondering, there's a reason as to why I refer to Kidd so much as "the child", "the infant", or "the baby". If you haven't noticed, Death hasn't really ever called him by name. Only Mena so keep that in mind for later chapters.

Thanks again for all the reviews!

Anyway, I think that's everything.

Nothing more to say so**_...PLEASE REVIEW!!! _**


	5. Requiem of a Lullaby

**Disclaimer: I do not own Soul Eater. If I did well...I don't exactly what I would do but I don't so that's a question for another day. :P**

**Requiem of a Lullaby**

_And you ask me what I want this year  
And I try to make this kind and clear  
Just a chance that maybe we'll find better days_

_**~Better Days by the Goo Goo Dolls**_

* * *

When Mena's feet touched the cobblestone ground she looked back behind her though she knew that the mirror portal would no longer be there. She shook her head. Death had been acting strange but then again, any man would be slightly nervous at the thought of taking care of a child by themselves for even a few hours. "_And also Death is normally just weird and introverted," _she reminded herself.

"I hope the whole place is still there when I get back," Mena murmured before deciding it best to get the shopping over and done before something _did _happen.

The sooner she was finished, the sooner she could save Death from Death the Kid. She shook her head once again, trying to hold back the laugh when she imagined Death cowering in the corner from the cute and adorable child. "The bonding will do old Death some good," she decided.

She reached into her pocket to pull out the list she had brought.

"Now-" she began before cutting off, falling to her knees as her head felt as if it as full of the most horrible unearthly noise. Instantly she knew what was happening and who was causing it as she felt the figurative scales of her moralities tilt unevenly to the side of complete and utter insanity…

_**"I always feared you," **_a frighteningly familiar voice said calmly in her head**.**

"_**The way Death trusted you. You would have turned him against me if you knew what I was up to sooner."**_

"B-bastard…" she slurred, her world spinning. She hated this voice. Death was obsessed with taking down the owner of this voice since the Grim Reaper saw it as his fault for letting such a person go as far as becoming a kishin. _"It wasn't his fault," _Mena knew.

_**"I want happiness; to not fear anything. Please die Mena-chan…after you wreak some chaos."**_

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The common misunderstanding about the Grim Reaper is that he had no clue as to what human emotions were. But the thing people tend to forget is that he was created from human emotion: the fear of death. He had seen plenty mournful souls on his trips and even when he didn't need to personally be there to make sure a soul reached its destined spot, he still from time to time drifted out of his domain to lead lost souls to their next destination.

And so, here he was, in a dark alley, festive sounds coming from the market behind dulled at the scene before him.

Painted on one of the alley's wall were three sideways eye shapes - the sign of insanity, the mark of Asura – in semi-fresh blood. He forced himself to look down at the figure crumpled at his feet, already attracting flies.

With eyes wide open, with pupils dilated, and mouth pulled into a crazed smile, she looked like she had just been let in on the world's funniest joke. Her blood splattered face was streaked with shed tears. Her left arm rested above her chest. From the elbow down this arm was transformed into a sickle like blade that had cut a slit over her throat.

Insanity had possessed her - that was obvious. But she had fought against it, stopping herself before she harmed anyone else, and not letting Asura have the pleasure of getting rid of her himself.

Such a prideful woman, even to the end.

As he reached down, to collect her soul, her features smoothed so that if the blood around her and the slit at her neck was not present she would look like she was merely sleeping.

Her soul pulsed rhythmically in his hands. He noted that it had a soft warmth to it. He felt the same prick at his soul again and he was finally able to place a name to it: grief.

"Sleep well, Mena," he murmured.

Just knowing exactly when someone would die didn't make things easier. "_Sometimes_," Death thought, "_Ignorance is truly bliss."_

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When he returned to his cloud covered Death Room, he found Father Time hovering over the crib Mena had moved there "for his convenience and to better improve the bonding experience".

"What are you doing here?"

The older looking male glanced towards Death. "I'm merely performing a request that was asked upon me," he said nodding towards the blue orb that floated in Death's hand: Mena.

Death didn't argue.

He watched as Time took his thumb and forefingers and pressed them against the child's forehead. "Take out that mirror of yours," he grunted with a strained voice, brow pinched.

Death didn't hesitate. The mirror instantly appeared. He watched as Time removed her thumb and forefinger, straining to point them in the direction of the mirror. The child and his crib suddenly appeared behind the mirror's surface.

With a thin layer of sweat beading his brow, Father Time dropped his hand, taking a deep breath. "There."

"What did you do?" Death questioned, almost a tone of worry in his voice, but just a little.

"It's a safeguard," Time informed. _"_That woman, Mena," Time said ignoring the small flinch Death made, "she asked me to do this." He tapped wrinkled fingers on the surface of the mirror. "_We,"_ he said once again gesturing towards the floating soul, "knew that at this present time, a child wasn't in your best interests. Not now." Time yawned, a faint smile on his tired face, "But he will be, and many others."

"I've just lost one soul, why must you make me lose another?" Death asked, hiding his anger.

"But you haven't lost anything, Death!" Time chuckled nervously as he continued. "Well to be perfectly honest, this young lad – what was his name again, oh right- Death the Kid, is actually a few centuries early then expected according to my books. He isn't supposed to begin his training to take over your domain until the very end of the 20th century. Can't blame an old man like me for the mistake, can you?"

Death refrained from rolling his eyes, not that his colleague would notice either way.

"Anyway, use this as an opportunity to build your empire! And keep Mena's soul in mind! She may never see it, but you can at least make sure her dreams come true! Do that for her! Do that for your son! So that when he awakens from this timeless sleep he'll see how truly great his father is."

"He's not my son."

Father Time chuckled, shaking his head. "Time changes everything, even you Death."

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_**Several Hundred Years in the Future**_

Within the school of Shibusen, in Death's office – though he was now known as Shinigami-sama – the grim reaper tapped the side of his mask as if forgetting something. Meanwhile, he was fairly aware of his current weapon, Death Scythe Spirit Albarn going on about…something. He decided to tune in out of politeness and sheer amusement.

"…and she's so adorable! Looks just like her mother! She'll be so brilliant! And she's the cutest little baby in the world! Oh boy, she'll be a looker when she's older. WAIT! I'll slice through any punks who try to date her away!" Spirit grinned crazily, arm partially transformed. "Yes. Let those punks even try to touch my Maka-chan…"

_**Shinigami-Chop**_

"You're giving me a headache, Spirit-kun," he sighed looking down at the man curled up on the floor.

The doors to his office opened and both he and Spirit looked to see who it was.

"Shinigami-sama," a living breathing Sid greeted as he entered, carrying a squirming bundle. "The Star clan has been eliminated."

"Eh? Very good. They were very bad people. Talented but very bad," Shinigami said wagging his large finger. "Now who do we have there?"

Sid looked down at the squirming mass in his arms before moving aside the sheets to reveal a baby's face with a small patch of blue hair sticking out.

Spirit, still in his father role, snatched the infant from Sid's arms in a blink of the arms. "Oh!," Spirit exclaimed, twirling the infant around. "He's not as nearly as cute as my Maka-chan but-!" The baby threw up on the poor death scythe, laughing at Spirit's disgusted face.

"Uh yeah," Sid said taking back the child. "His name is Black Star. Last thing I was able to find out before his father, White Star, was killed. Black Star is now the only survivor left of the Star Clan. Everyone else was terminated." He cleared his throat, looking hesitant. "I-I couldn't bring myself to…"

"It's fine Sid-kun," Shinigami-sama gently replied. "This child should not be punished for what his parents have done. We will take him in as a ward of the school."

Letting out a breath that he hadn't known he'd been holding, Sid nodded. "Right sir."

"Good," Shinigami nodded, pleased with his decision. "Now, there's a much more important matter at hand." Sid and Spirit waited expectantly. "We're out of animal crackers. Who wants to go get some for me?"

Before either of the two could decide which one, they were all startled by a banging sound. Shinigami was the first to find where the sound was coming from. He was pleased and excited when he turned and saw a familiar baby boy sitting in front of his mirror with a look of cool boredom. The child blinked, and the death god noticed that his eyes were no longer a dark color but a light amber that oh so reminded him of the fiery sparks in that woman's eyes so long ago…

"Another one?" Spirit exclaimed. "Are we turning into an orphanage? And what's up with his hair? He's prematurely graying and he looks like he's barely even one!"

"Eh? The lines? I think they're kind of cute," Shinigami said picking up the child in one of his large hands. "Hello! Hello! Do you remember me Kidd-kun?"

"Kidd-kun?" Spirit and Sid said simultaneously.

"Short for Death the Kid. He's my son."

Both the death scythe and the knife meister back peddled. "WHAT!?" Spirit instantly fainted, the idea of his boss having a child leading to how a child is…created greatly disturbed and over worked his mind.

Sid on the other hand managed to keep his wits. "Uh…congratulations?" he offered.

Black Star, even at his young age, knew one thing for certain in his new little mind: the attention wasn't on him anymore so, he cried. Loudly.

"Aw what's wrong?" Shinigami questioned leaning over the crying child.

Kidd looked down at the crying child reaching towards him. Shinigami saw this and lowered him down so that the two infants were on the same level. It only took as second for Kidd to hit the other boy on the head with his small fist giving him a blank stare.

Black Star stopped crying. He looked over at Kidd with a curious sort of look, reaching out towards him…and messing up his hair so that it was in an asymmetrical mess. Kidd froze for a second…before crying and Black Star not the one to be out won cried too, louder.

"Aw!" Shinigami cooed. "They've became friends."

Sid sweat dropped. If these two were friends, he doubted he wanted to see them as enemies, he thought.

"Sid?" Shinigami-sama called. "Kidd-kun and I are hungry. FEED US!"

Sighing, Sid wondered if he should be worried for this young Death the Kid. And very faintly, he could have sworn he heard a woman's amused chuckle…

* * *

And ta-da! I say this is a nice place to end this before I go back to school. Don't worry though, this isn't the end. I plan for at least two or three more chapters. The next chapter should hopefully be just funny and silly stuff while the chapters after that will be the big meet and greet a.k.a. Kidd meeting Liz and Patty and a little bit of their back story because they weren't just born the Demons of Brooklyn... I'm excited!

Anyway, thanks to everyone for all the reviews. I'm especially happy that everyone liked Mena while she lasted. I think I mentioned this to someone but this story here might not be the last you see of Mena if you read my other story "No Matter What". I haven't decided yet and it's not definite but I was playing around with the idea of having her make a quick cameo but like I always say, my mind is subject to change.

Um...nothing more to say so...**_PLEASE REVIEW!!!_**


	6. Die For Hair

**Disclaimer: I do not own Soul Eater. I am freaking excited to hear the English voices! Is anyone else?**

**Die For Hair**

_Hope decays,  
Generations disappear,  
Washed away,  
As a nation simply stares..._

**_~The Little Things Give You Away by Linkin Park_**

* * *

He closed his amber eyes slowly, taking a deep breath.

"_No," _he thought to himself.

He breathed in the fumes from the many open bottles that were placed systematically in the trash. If he was anything less then what he was, then he would have already been swaying on his feet before being promptly knocked out by the building toxic smell.

"_These are the best products money can buy," _he mentally reassured himself. "_They'll work. They __**have **__to work."_

And with that, and one final deep breath to calm his frayed nerves – though he was way pass that point by now – he slowly opened his eyes, staring quietly at the expressionless reflection of himself in the mirror. His eyes drifted up and to the side of his head.

He readjusted the tie at his neck calmly…

…and then he screamed bloody murder.

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Shinigami watched as Spirit jumped, startled, into his arms at the shrill scream coming from Death Mansion at the other end of town.

"What the-" Death Scythe began before he was promptly dropped on his behind. Sulking, lips poking out, he got to his feet.

"Excuse me, Spirit-kun," Shinigami said giving off an air of unconcern as he went towards his large mirror and walked straight through it, out of his office-

- and into the bathroom where Kidd sat, in all his eight year old glory, giving the tantrum from hell – probably literally – again for the eighth time that week. It seemed the boy had a very strange tendency for doing things evenly, preferably eight times. Shinigami shrugged it off as a phase that he heard other parents say about their children weird oddities.

"Eh? Kidd-kun?" the grim reaper quirked his head to the side. "What's with all the fuss?"

The boy looked up at him with usually impasse eyes that were now glossy with tears. Shaking, Kidd slowly raised a hand to point towards his head. "It's – it's HORRIBLE!" he wailed, crying harder and louder.

The bathroom shook, and the shadows began to elongate as the room got ominously colder.

"Horrible, you say? I think it looks cute!" Death chuckled.

"It's HORRIBLE!" Kidd continued to wail as he clutched on to his head. "I should just use a guillotine to cut my head off! One more blemishing mistake removed from this world, Father!"

Shinigami made a disappointed sound right before his hand chopped down on the poor boy's head, knocking him out as the room slowly began to return to its original state.

Scooping him up in his large hands, the Grim Reaper could finally see what all the yelling was about. The three horizontal white stripes that ran across half of the boy's hair were a fading gray color that slowly reverted back to its pristine white as the dye used took no affect.

"Honestly," Shinigami sighed as he began heading towards his son's room. "I think they're cute. And…they'll one day be complete but by then, I doubt you'd care anymore," he said knowingly.

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In a place very far from Death City another voice screamed. "DAMN BRATS! GET YOUR ASSES BACK HERE!!!"

Two young girls, twins actually though one could past as twelve and the other eight, were walking calmly down the street when they paused. The older twin held a bored expression as she looked over her shoulder. "What?" she questioned the man who was breathing heavily as he stomped his way towards them. She subconsciously took a step forward in front of the

"Where's your mother?"

"Somewhere," she said simply before grabbing her sister's arm and pulling her along.

The angry man stepped forward, grabbing the tall girl's other arm. "Don't be a smart ass, brat! I want details of where that whore of a mother is!"

"Somewhere over the rainbow. There, adjectives. Come on Patty," she called to the shorter girl before they continued to walk.

"You little-!"

"Anderson."

The man looked over his shoulder, worry evident as he began to sweat bullets. The taller girl froze, not daring to look back in case the nervousness she felt inside her was projected onto her face. Her grip on her sister's hand did tighten slightly though. Behind them was a purposely plain looking black car with tinted windows.

The man, Anderson, chuckled nervously. "Hey! Charlie! I was just talking to Fiona's girls."

"I think I can see that," Charlie, a mere voice from the slit of one of the windows sighed. There was a shifting sound, and she could feel his rarely seen but still widely know intense stare at her back. "What? You're not gonna say 'Hi' to your Uncle Chuck?"

Flipping her long blonde hair over her shoulder, the twelve year old girl tried to appear unaffected with the fact that she was talking to one of the biggest mob bosses in Brooklyn. "Hey."

"Ah! That's better. Still looking after your sister I see. What a big girl you are Elizabeth."

"It's Liz," the girl countered, her grip on her sister's hand getting tired. "And if all you wanted was to say hi, then can me and Patty go?"

Anderson, who had been trying to slowly to ease himself out of the present situation froze as he felt "Charlie's hidden gaze on him. "Sure, sure. I need to talk to Anderson here anyway. Make sure you say hello to you mom for me, 'kay?"

She only gave a short nod before walking to the end of the block and making a turn, away from the view of the occupant of the black car. She honestly didn't want to be witness to Anderson's fate. It wasn't until she was sure that they were out of sight that she began to walk faster, pulling her sister through a gaping whole in a fence and into the other side of a dilapidated graffiti playground.

"Patty and Liz can't go home, yet?" the younger girl finally spoke as her hand was released, Liz making her way towards under the large play tunnel. Inside was a thin shape that length took up most of the tunnel's. She gave a slight tug on the shape pulling it out of the tunnel.

"Not till…we make sure…she's still alive," Liz grunted.

"Momma!" Patty said as she helped ease the shape onto her sister's back.

"Or so the birth certificate says," Liz snorted, for once thankful for her height, and staring intently at Patty's innocent face…instead of focusing on the bullet wound in the woman's side…steadily leaking blood. Or the fact that she was so used to this that she didn't tremble anymore...

* * *

SOOOOOOOOOO LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONNNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGG!!!!!

All I have to say is this: JUNIOR YEAR SUCKS :P The only positive light in it is Poetry Slam and Art class -sigh-

Seriously, I've been working on this chapter which is only about three pages for 3 months! I should really be doing my homework, but I needed to get something out to prove that I'm still alive. LIZ AND PATTY HAVE MADE THIER APPEARANCE! I honestly can't remeber if they ever said or at least hinted at who their family was but this is my version. Anyway, I'm trying to make this story a perfect 8 chapters (it would only make sense) so this I think may be chapter six so two chapters left!

Also, yes I know dye as in hair dye is spelled d-y-e but if you haven't noticed I've been playing around with the title.

Anyway, nothing more to say so...**_PLEASE REVIEW!!!!_**


	7. It's Been Awhile

**Disclaimer: I do not own Soul Eater.**

**It's Been Awhile**

_You know that I cannot prove this solution_  
_You aren't the one that I thought you were_  
_And so I learned to embrace this illusion_  
_The line that separates it starts to blur_

_****__~Death of Me by RED_

* * *

She could hardly remember a time when she was allowed to act her age. She always acted older, because she never had the luxury like her sister to act her age or even younger. It was hard to do so when trying to maintain some sort of normalcy if only for Patty's sake and maybe even for her own sanity. After all, how could she act like a child when you had a mother such as hers?

"Amanda, you should be resting."

The tall svelte brunette looked over her shoulder as she slowly eased into a worn leather jacket. "Now Elizabeth, is that anyway to talk to your mother?"

Liz snorted, crossing her arms as she leaned against the entrance way that led to the only room in their small decrepit apartment. Patty's humming could be heard in the next room where the other two knew that she was drawing images from the world she was always stuck imagining of.

"You should be resting," Liz repeated again.

"Where's your hat?" her mother questioned, slipping a cigarette into her mouth. She fumbled in the pockets of her jacket looking for a lighter, accidentally touching a tender spot of skin as she winced in pain.

Liz averted her eyes as she watched her mother lighted the cigarette and took a long drag, watching from the corner of her eye as tendrils escaped her mouth.

"Where are you going tonight?" Liz frowned sternly as she stomped over to the nearest window and struggled with its rusting hinges in order to open it. By the time she turned back to her mother Amanda had already pulled her boots on.

"Ah, ah, ah," Amanda wagged her finger. "You didn't answer mine. Where's your hat?"

"Forget about the damn hat, Amanda!" the young girl growled, voice getting louder and angrier. "Where are you going tonight? Going to get shot again! Seriously, what the hell kind of mother are you!"

Amanda ignored her. Instead she walked past Liz into the other room where Patty sat doodling on the wall, though now slightly slower due to the tone of the voices of her sister's and mother's voices. Unlike her sister, she was wearing an old cowboy hat that looked like it had seen better days.

"Good girls wear hats," Patty smiled up at her mother.

Amanda smiled, nodding as she patted Patty's head loving. "That's what Daddy always said."

Patty giggled. "And Daddy was a straight shooter-"

"-right to my heart," her mother winked before turning to Liz. "Elizabeth, you two take care of each others. You know the rules. Run if you have to."

"What about Anderson," crossing her arms Liz asked. "He's looking for you."

Amanda snorted as she walked towards the door. "When is he not?"

Liz paused before saying her next question. "What about Charlie?"

Her mother turned back to her, patting her jacket's pocket. "I got a gun."

"You know it doesn't work. It hasn't worked since Daddy died," Liz reminded but Amanda was already out the door.

"Take care of each other," was Amanda's parting words.

Liz would later look back at this point in her life and wonder if her mother was well aware what was going to happen in the next 24 hours.

* * *

The grinning moon hung high over Death City, illuminating the Death Manor in an eerie glow as many of the city's residents began to sleep.

"Yo, yo, yo, Kidd-kun, no need to pout" Death patted his son's head as he pulled the black covers up over his son.

"These infernal lines won't go away," said young boy sighed, placing a hand held mirror back on his night stand, perfectly in the middle. He then began to straighten out his covers so that one corner was symmetrical with the other.

"They're cute," Shinigami chuckled, holding back the desire to touch the offending white stripes in fear of his son's symmetrical tantrum. He loved the boy dearly, but even a death god could only handle so much from a child.

Kidd finally stopped his restless straightening out. Looking out the window at the grinning moon with somber expression that broke his indifferent visage. "Father?"

"Yes, Kidd-o?"

"Must I continue this farce much longer?"

"Farce? Such a big word!" Shinigami chuckled openly but behind his mask he was calculating, watching the boy. "But I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about."

"Sleep. I'm talking about sleep, Father. I don't need it."

"You seemed to like it last week with the necessity to have eight hours of sleep"

"That was last week," the young boy countered. "This is now. It's pointless to look upon the past when there's a present and future in front of you." He paused looking at his father. "Is that not correct?"

"Not at all," Shinigami said darkly.

Kidd's features went from indifference to a deep frown. "I don't like sleeping," he relented. "I dream about things. Dark things about myself. Thing that I fear will happen."

Shinigami didn't speak, but at this point his son no longer needed prompting to talk.

"It was empty, everywhere. And I was floating in the middle of it. People, people were looking for me but they couldn't find me," the boy said white hands clenching his dark symmetrical bed sheets, his golden eyes looking far and distant. "And then darkness surrounded me…and I was over taken by madness…taken into nothing…" He looked up at his father looking for maybe the first time like a child of his age. "I'm afraid Father."

Shinigami patted his head showing his jolly goofy side then his true fears that his son's words had brought. After all, he couldn't frighten his son with the grim truth of his future at such a young age. Besides, who was to say that things wouldn't change? He wasn't Father Time. "There's only one thing you can do to get over your fear."

Kidd looked at his father expectantly, waiting for some divine wisdom to fall from behind the mask.

"Create a Death Scythe."

* * *

Amanda had never been gone for more then a few hours at the most. Though she was reckless she still cared about her daughters so it was surprising to Liz that their mother still not arrived back home or in the hiding space in the park at all. She was just about to pull open the door to their apartment when it fell down under the weight of a limp form.

"Momma!" Patty cried as their mother collapsed into a bloody pile in front of her. Liz moved to step in front of her, blocking the image but the spillage of blood crept across the floor back into her view.

"Don't look," Liz said, her shaking figure giving away the fear she tried to conceal in her voice. As stated before, she was used to the sight of blood. Death, on the other hand, was a totally different subject.

"Aw look at the little girl trying to be brave."

Patty peaked from behind Liz to see the culprit of their mother's bloody form.

"G-get out of here Anderson!" Liz tried to say firmly but it was hard to do when a man who's bigger then you and stronger then you has a gun pointing straight at you.

"Or what? Charlie aint gonna save you this time. Actually, he sent me. Seems he got tired of this bitch trying to kill him."

"POTTY MOUTH! POTTY MOUTH!" Patty yelled at the man.

"Shut up!" Anderson yelled back, shooting the gun just a foot away from them for emphasis. He smirked at Liz's frightened expression. "You're a pretty little thing. Bet you could bring me a lot of money on the street." His smirk grew. "Uncle Anderson will take _**good **_care of you. Both of ya…" he lingered off licking his lips.

Liz was frozen. She was only ten. Not even a teenager. Far from being an adult. And here her mother was lying dead in cold blood for whatever reason that was too hard for her young mind to understand. She could see Patty with a fearless expression but the small hand that clutched hers was shaking.

_"I want to protect her but I'm too afraid…How can I protect her?"_

Anderson pushed himself pass the door, stepping over Amanda's body as he stalked towards them.

_"I'm just a kid. A powerless kid. I can't even get rid of this scum. I can't-"_

"Sis," Patty's voice cut into her thoughts. She looked into her sister's deep blue eyes and saw something that was indescribable. A hum filled her as Patty said, "I got your back," with a devilish smile.

Liz found herself smirking, despite the tears that now began to fall, blinding her sight. She didn't see a pink light surround her sister before the hand that she once was holding turned into a gun handle. She didn't see Anderson's shocked expression as she turned the weapon now in her hands towards him or his laughing expression, the slight moment of relief that swept over his face as the gun fell from her hands. She didn't see the twin pink glow that surrounded around her as she felt warm and cold all at the same time, Patty's hand now enclosed around her.

But she did hear the resounding bang that went through and out from her as Anderson staggered back, twisting and contorting until all that was left was a floating red orb.

* * *

Finally updated! No excuses. I'm sorry. Anyway we're getting close to the end. One or two chapters left. YAY!

Anyway, nothing more to say so..._**PLEASE REVIEW!**_


	8. Death's Legacy

**Disclaimer: I do not own Soul Eater.**

**Death's Legacy**

_When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears  
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears  
And I've held your hand through all of these years  
But you still have  
All of me_

_**~My Immortal by Evanescence**_

_**Several Years Later…**_

Her grin stretched across her face sending waves of demented pleasure throughout her body and the connection she shared with her sister before she swung the butt of the gun down almost mercilessly on the poor black suited man's head. Hardly letting him crumple to the ground of the filth covered alley she was already taking out his wallet out of his pocket.

The gun in her hand transformed before she tossed the wallet to her taller sister before looking to see if there was any candy in the man's pockets. Liz opened the flap of the wallet, taking a brief stop to scold Patty from sniffing or eating the white "pixie dust", as Patty had called it, found in his pocket.

She let out an angry cry when she found no money. Tossing the wallet angrily down, she gently pushed Patty aside to search the pockets herself. There was nothing to be found but lint fuzz.

"Damn it!" Liz cried angrily rising to her full height. She reached for her back pocket and took out a cigarette, not taking long to light it. Gray wisps escaped from her mouth as she breathed out, try to calm herself.

When that didn't work she grabbed Patty's arm, pulling her sister along out of the alley. Siren noises were heard a block away but neither was bothered by the sounds. The police didn't come towards this side of Brooklyn. This was Charlie's turf and no one dared to go against the shifty gangster's rule, that is, except for the Demon Twins of Brooklyn, the thorns in "Uncle Charlie's" side.

Liz took a long drag on her cigarette as she tugged her jacket closer around her skinny figure. She ignored the twisting feeling in her starving stomach. She and Patty had long become acquainted with the feeling. She sighed. The streets were dark and empty. There was no one to steal from. The man they had attacked just minutes before had been a long shot. Charlie had long made sure that any civilian stayed out of the streets after dark. If anything, he was probably sent out by Charlie to try to stop the two sisters. There was, after all, a price on the two's heads.

Tugging on her sleeve pulled Liz out of her thoughts as Patty yawned, leaning against her sister. The taller blonde smiled softly down at her sister, a sight that the hyper blonde was only privileged to see. Bending her knees, Elizabeth Thompson pulled her tired sister onto her back, trying to figure out where would be best to sleep next.

_**-DEATH TALES-**_

In the back of his mind, he wondered if his face would be frozen in a look of pure horror the further he walked down the rancid smelling asymmetrical Brooklyn street.

_"This must be punishment" _he thought to himself. "_I must have angered Honorable Father in some way. Maybe it's because my asymmetrical appearance!" _Worriedly, he tugged the hood of his wispy black cloak forward on his head in an attempt to hide his signature white striped hair.

Shinigami-sama had ordered his son to take care of a small mess in Brooklyn. There were reports of a duo-weapon pair that terrorized the already grim streets of Brooklyn and Death the Kid was given the responsibility to take care in risk of a kinshin egg. He couldn't help but remember his father's rarely used grave voice at how Kidd and not a meister and weapon team had to take care of this task.

Bringing his mind off of his desire for a symmetrical hairstyle that always seemed out of his reach, he noticed two wavelengths coming from behind him.

_"Weapons. Both of them," _he thought with a sigh. _"If these two are anything like the ones that father tried to pair me with then this will be tiring."_

To say he was startled would be an overstatement when he found the barrel of a gun pointed at his head held by a blonde girl with a lit cigarette held between her smirking lips.

Kidd, with a bored expression looked her over. She appeared no more than a few years older than him, but she already had the jaded eyes of a lifetime of betrayal and distrust in the world that were only found in the most hardened of men.

"Look what the skunk dragged in," the girl greeted, using the height difference to try to intimidate him. "Give us your money."

"No," he simply said.

She raised her brow at his lack of fear before shoving him hard against the brick wall. "You can't just come down this street at this time of night and not expect to pay some fee for intruding' upon our alley."

"Shoot 'em! Shoot 'em! Shoot 'em, Liz!" a crazed voice giggled from the gun.

"Death can travel wherever he likes," Kidd said still not frightened at all.

She growled and in a flash of pink light, she and the gun were replaced by another blonde hair girl holding the exact replica of the gun before.

That caused Kidd's mouth to drop.

Liz smirked from within the gun. "_Now we've scared the crap out of him."_

Patty turned the gun to its side, giggling as she sang "Kill shot, kill shot!" repeatedly.

What the strange boy did next startled them both.

The boy began to cry, which in any other context wouldn't be that surprising – they had made many men cry like babies before – but in this one it was unnerving since he was crying with tears of a joy and a look on his face as if he had just won the Fate's lottery.

"You two, ARE BEAUTIFUL!" he cried with glee. "So symmetrical!"

Liz changed back to her human form quickly enough to push the boy away, stopping his attempt to hug Patty. "What the hell is wrong with you? Do you have a death wish, boy?"

"Well, technically I am De-"

He was cut off by the sound of shooting in the air.

"Damn it!" Liz cursed. "Run you idiot!" she yelled at Kidd before pulling Patty to a nearby fire escape.

He watched as they climbed up to the roof, distracted as a black unmarked car with tinted windows pulled up to the entrance of the alley. Three black suited men stepped out, firing their guns at the rooftops before hopping back inside the car, driving off.

Kid raised a questioning brow. For once in his symmetrical obsessed life, he was intrigued.

_**-DEATH TALES-**_

Liz growled. They were cornered. "_Damnit! Why the hell did I bring us towards the wharfs?" _she thought as Patty's hands held on tighter around her gun's handle.

"You two have been very bad," the voice of Charlie came from the black tinted window cars surrounded by two dozen men all with guns pointing at the two. "Is this how you repay your uncle?

"Cut the uncle crap!" Liz yelled from her weapon form. "You were hardly ever even close to being considered our uncle! You killed our father and then our mother! You're a monster and a coward hiding behind bullet proof glass."

A sigh came from the car. "Such hostility. Well, I suppose that if you don't want to be civil with Uncle Charlie I'll just have to get rid of you ungrateful brats. Gentlemen, prepare to fire."

Liz braced herself. They could take out some of them but not all and there was no option of running since their exit was blocked and… "_What the-" _she thought with shock as she saw the same weird skunk haired boy walking calmly through the open warehouse doors.

He seemed not to pay any attention to the fact that now half of the men were pointing their guns at his unarmed body. Instead he looked straight at Liz and Patty, his golden eyes piercing the sister's souls.

"What would you say if I offered you and your sister a getaway from this place?" he asked in a casual tone. "You'll be completed provided and cared for. Would you accept?"

"You must be crazy," the taller sister said transforming back to her normal form. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Before he could answer, Charlie's enraged voice came from the car. "You punk! Who do you think you are coming into my territory? Do you want to die?"

Cold golden eyes turned towards the car. "I should be asking you that question," he said with such an icy tone that for the first time since she and Patty had been on her own, she was been truly afraid.

The shadows around them seemed to elongate and dance and the men began to become nervous holding their guns as the air around them became thick with a soul haunting presence.

"I'm intruding upon your territory?" the boy continued before narrowing his eyes. "You have been intruding on Death's territory, you fool!"

Pulling Patty close to her, Liz closed her eyes, praying to whatever deity existed that Patty would at least make it out of this situation alive. Unnoticed to her, the boy turned his eyes on the two sister's clutching on to each other as if he had heard her prayer…and maybe he did.

"You can open up your eyes now," his voice said.

Patty pushed herself away from her sister's smothering grip. She let out a delighted giggle causing Liz to open her eyes. She was caught speechless at the sight.

In the span of one minute Charlie's car had been turned over a hand with several gaudy rings slumped out of the broken car window and all of his men were piled into a large heap – whether unconscious or dead Liz didn't want to know – the their strange golden eyed savior standing on top.

His face split into a delighted smile at their awe. " So," he said extending out his hand to them, "do you accept my offer?"

Liz regained her composure, hoping that her expression had turned into indifference instead of "I'm-about-to-wet-my-pants" look of fear.

"We're not cheap," she found herself saying.

"And I'm not with out the means," he replied back. "As I thought I said before, neither of you will have to worry about food or shelter again. Is there anything else I can offer in order for you both to become my weapons?"

"Why?"

He blinked back confusedly at her. "Symmetry," he said simply.

Patty giggled, "Hats! Hats! Liz and I want hats!"

"Hats?" he asked arching a brow.

Liz looked at her sister before smirking, hands on her hips. "Of course. Good girls, like Patty and I wear hats….uh…what's your name, kid?

"Kidd. Death the Kid, son of Death and heir of the Valley of Death."

Patty whistled appreciatively. She jumped on the pile of men so she stood next to the boy. He watched her curiously as she smiled at him.

"Your hair lines are broken," she laughed pointing out his white stripes. And as Death the Kid balled himself into a sobbing ball while Patty continued to laugh and prod him Liz let out her own soft laugh that began to grow and grow until she fell to her knees, tear streaming down her face.

A shadow fell upon her and when she looked up he didn't ask what was wrong or if she was ok. Instead he simply said "Let's go home, Elizabeth."

Back in the Nevada city of Death City, Shinigami watched the mirrored image of his son and the two who would become a big part of his son's life.

"And so, the legacy truely begins..."

* * *

So it's the first of a two day snow day where I live so that means homework that I was going to do for tomorrow will be done tomorrow...unless the schools are closed for a third day.

Anyway, thanks so much for the support. This may not be the best ending but when you think about it, it's not really the end lol.

Thanks again for the support. I'm so thankful for all the reviews of this story and I hope you all support my other Soul Eater fics.

Nothing more to say so...**_PLEASE REVIEW!_**


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